


Translation

by halfeatenmoon



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Dogs, Gen, Language Barrier, Talking to animals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-17
Updated: 2013-05-17
Packaged: 2017-12-11 18:20:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfeatenmoon/pseuds/halfeatenmoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leaving home behind and coming to Pittsburgh was overwhelming, but Evgeni Malkin was lucky in that he could always find someone else to talk to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Translation

**Author's Note:**

> I came up with this little snippet ages ago and wanted to turn it into something longer, but I couldn't find a storyline. In the end it felt like this was complete as it was, so I'm posting it as the short little piece it is.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who helped me work through the dilemma of what name to use, too. It might be a 1000 word fic about talking to dogs, but I had to get it _just right_.

Evgeni didn't tell anyone he was leaving Russia. He couldn't, not if he wanted to succeed. That was hard, but he knew it was the way it had to be, and that he'd have time to explain later, once he was safely in Pittsburgh. What hurt was that he couldn't explain it to Jeffrey. He was used to telling his dog all his secrets, and this time, he couldn't. It wasn't that he was afraid of getting caught - he'd never met anyone who could understand animals like he could, and even if there were, he trusted Jeffrey not to tell them anything. It was just that Jeffrey wouldn't understand. He knew Evgeni went away sometimes, and some of those times were longer than others, and then he came back again. He tried, but he couldn't get his dog to understand that he was going far away, or that he couldn't come back.

Jeffrey knew when Evgeni was planning to leave; he could always tell the difference. He didn't make a fuss, just trotted around after him and said _I love you_ a little more than he usually did, and occasionally _I'll miss you_ , too. He didn't seem too sad when he followed Evgeni and all his luggage to the door, though, and rolled over happily for his goodby belly rub, his tail thumping against the floor.

 _Will you bring me a treat?_ he asked, as Evgeni was gathering up his bags.

He hesitated. It would be so easy to say yes, automatically, just like he always did. But it was bad enough that Jeffrey was going to keep waiting for him, no matter what. He couldn't let his last words to his dog be a lie.

"No. I can't bring you any treats, not this time."

 _Okay._ Jeffrey nosed at his hip one last time as he opened the door. _I love you._

"I love you too," Evgeni said, solemnly, smiling at his friend one last time before he closed the door.

 

By the time he got his first glimpse of Pittsburgh, Evgeni was exhausted, overwhelmed and still far too awake. The feeling of voicelessness that came from stepping into a world where nobody spoke his language, that was uncomfortable, but it wasn't new. He'd traveled outside Russia with Magnitogorsk. What was new was doing it without a friend by his side.

None of the three faces that greeted him when the driver dropped him off were friends, but they were welcoming. And for the first time since he got off the plane, at least there was something he could recognize. Sergei Gonchar knew his language, so unlike the last five people who asked how his journey was, Evgeni could answer him and actually be heard. He couldn't really speak with Sid or Mario, but they seemed familiar already, from all the times he'd watched them skate or handle a puck. It wasn't until Mario closed the door behind them, though, that Evgeni got the real welcome he was used to at home, the skitter of claws on floors and not one, but two big, furry bodies pawing at his legs.

"This is Abby and Ben," Sergei repeated after a smiling Mario.

 _Who are you?_ Ben asked, eagerly. _You smell funny._

Evgeni knelt down, dropped his bags on the floor and let them lick at his face for a moment, laughing. "I come from a long way away," he said.

 _You can talk! Does everyone talk where you come from?_ Abby asked.

"No, just me," he said, giving them one more pat and standing up.

"Come on," Mario said, once Evgeni had straightened up. "You must be hungry."

Dinner was subdued. Given the late hour, they had to be quiet so as not to wake Mario's family, and waiting for Sergei to translate every word made things slow. In the midst of the jetlag and the exhaustion of leaving his home, though, feeling so welcome and safe made Evgeni wonder if he was dreaming.

 _You're quiet_ , Abby said. _Are you always quiet and slow?_

Evgeni dropped his hand below the seat of his chair, and smiled when Abby trotted over and nosed at it, then sat down to let him ruffle her ears.

"She likes you," Mario said, smiling. Sergei looked at Evgeni, questioning, but he knew enough to say this much.

"Like dogs. Dogs like me," he said, and Mario smiled even wider.

 _I love you,_ the dog added. Dogs never just 'liked' people, he'd learned. They liked food, or their favorite toys, or chasing things. When it was people, they either loved or they didn't.

When Sid and Sergei got up to go to the kitchen for dessert, Evgeni leaned down just for a moment, scratching under Abby's jaw. "I'm just tired," he murmured, while Mario sat there, content in the silence. "And I'm new. I don't understand them. I don't know what they think, but I want to stay."

He had to stop, then, when Sid and Sergei came back in, and for a moment he forgot all about the dogs when he saw the cake they were carefully carrying between them. When they put it down on the table, he frowned at the words scrawled in white on top of the chocolate frosting.

"Pittsburgh... hello?"

"Welcome. It says Welcome to Pittsburgh, Evgeni," Sergei corrected him. Mario said something, and Sergei added, "Sid and the Lemieux children made it."

Sid interjected, frowning, and Evgeni looked at him curiously while Sergei translated. "He says sorry it's not very good. They don't make sweets much, because of his diet."

Mario picked up a knife to start slicing it, and Abby put her chin on Evgeni's knee as he reached out to take a plate.

_It means they love you, _she said, and he had to put down his fork for a moment to press a hand into her fur before he could taste it.__

__It was cake, sweet and rich and chocolatey. It was different to the cakes he had grown up eating, but it was familiar, too. This wasn't his home, but tonight, in this room, with all these kind strangers, there was enough to make him think that it could be._ _


End file.
